By excusing him from all team activities—sending him away to get started on counseling as soon as humanly possible—the Philadelphia Eagles Friday took another step toward detaching themselves from Riley Cooper.

Without actually doing it, however.

LeSean McCoy came out strongly in his disapproval of Riley Cooper: "I can't respect a guy like that."

But now that Cooper and the physical reminder of his poisonous words are gone for the foreseeable future, what reason do they still have to keep him? What’s stopping them from cutting him, the one move that they’re fully entitled to make and that Cooper has no option but to accept?

Besides the obvious one, that is: that when or if Cooper returns, Jeremy Maclin will still be on crutches. Still, now that it’s become clear that he’s so unwelcome around his teammates, the one sensible act for the Eagles to make, despite the damage to the roster, is the one they should already have made.

The idea of his going to sensitivity training, in the wake of his racist candid-cellphone-camera outburst, is noble and encouraging. It’s the least he could do if he’s serious about proving that—as he said so remorsefully on Wednesday—he “wasn’t raised that way."

Cooper can do that on his own, though. The Eagles aren’t obligated to escort him there. Or to keep him on the roster and payroll while he does it.

Before Cooper makes peace with the teammates, coaches and officials he wounded and betrayed so deeply and to the team whose trust he broke, he needs to make peace with himself. He can work through that by himself, though. With this leave of absence, the Eagles seem to agree. His problem isn’t obliged to be everybody’s problem.

Right now, it’s a big problem in the locker room. LeSean McCoy, as prominent a voice as there is in that room, made that clear on Thursday. “I can’t respect a guy like that," McCoy told the NFL Network. “I guess the real him came out that day. The cameras are off, you don’t think nobody’s watching or listening, and then you find out who they really are."

Others reportedly agree. Reports trickled out that cutting him was still a possibility. Around the league the consensus is that, even as they acknowledge it’s the wrong approach, opponents will seek vengeance on him on the field.

In the beginning, Michael Vick represented the voice of absolution and acceptance, as well as an example of repentance and redemption. The Eagles themselves extended the olive branch of the counseling offer, too. It’s not that Vick’s view, and the organization’s grace, aren’t being respected, though—it’s that no matter how admirable they were, the rest of the players can’t bring themselves to be that magnanimous.

Understandably so. They are, remember, individuals with their own experiences to bring to bear. To begrudge them their anger, distrust and urge to see Cooper gone disrespects their humanity.

Cooper had been embedded in the organization for three years. Vick’s warts were out in the open for all to observe. Cooper, we now know, kept his under wraps while he worked, performed with and befriended dozens of teammates during his time as an Eagle.

So when he ripped the cover off two months ago at that concert, never imagining that any of the men with whom he’d shared a life would ever find out, the ugliness was that much greater.

So was the sense of betrayal.

Right now, the Eagles are giving no closure to the situation. Cooper could return in a month, or two, or three, and the locker room could still be poisonous. As much as he’s entitled to a chance at redemption, those players are entitled to their pain and anguish. They didn’t ask for it or invite it in. Cooper brought it to them.

But this would not be relevant if the Eagles had simply said, “We’re not tolerating that. Period. Leave. We’re pulling for you. Try to get better and do better. But not here, and not on our dime. Not with these men.”

They can still say that, instead of putting it all on hold, waiting on Cooper while the rest of the franchise simmers.

Maybe they already would have said it—if Jeremy Maclin were not on crutches.